Ron Weasley and the Boy Who Lived
by n6h6
Summary: The first Harry Potter book in Ron Weasley's perspective.
1. The Hurried, Happy Breakfast

I do not own Harry Potter or J.K. Rowling. This is a project of love and respect for the world she has built, and I intend to make no money from it.

* * *

Ron Weasley woke up to loud knocking on his door, and the frenzied voice of his mum.

"Wake up, Ron, we're running late..." she said, voice getting quieter as she rushed off to prepare breakfast, like she did every morning. Sometimes Ron wondered why she bothered to do that on September 1st, which was always the busiest day of the year for the over-large Weasley family. It's no surprise that they were running late... a quick glance at his bedside alarm clock told Ron that it was 6:22. They had to be at King's Cross Station before 11:00am, and the drive there was 4 hours.

And that's another thing Ron didn't understand. _Why can't we just apparate to King's Cross?_ Ron thought as he arose and got dressed. _Apparition is instant. Mum says side-along apparition is too dangerous, but splinching hardly ever happens with fully qualified wizards..._

But before Ron could ponder this further, his door flew open and two identical boys, Ron's twin brothers Fred and George, ran inside.

"Still not - up yet? Get a - move on! Can we - borrow this?" they said, finishing each other's sentences and grabbing Ron's roll of Spellotape. He couldn't get out a "Yeah, sure" before they were gone in a hurry. This wasn't unusual; they were always running around doing something suspicious.

It was when Ron dressed and left his room that he found out what they were doing. Fred was holding two pieces of a broken length of wood together as George frantically wrapped the Spellotape around it, trying to fix it. After nearly ten wraps around, they tossed it into Ginny's room and rushed up the stairs to get ready.

Ginny was Ron's little sister, the smallest Weasley child after Ron. She would _not_ like that the twins had broken her toy wand, no doubt while enchanting it to do some crazy thing. The toy wand meant a lot to her, a Christmas gift she got two years ago in an attempt by her parents to stopper her tumultuous eagerness to go to school like her brothers.

Ginny was hopelessly excited to go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; every year since she could talk she begged and begged to be let onto the Hogwarts Express at King's Cross. The answer was always, "No," of course. When a young witch or wizard turns 11, they receive their invitation to Hogwarts, detailing what they'll need to bring for their first year. Ginny, being only 10 years old, wasn't quite ready. To be honest, Ron wasn't so sure _he_ was ready.

Ron started down the stairs and ran into his older brother, Percy, who appeared to already be ready.

"Hello, Ron. Mum's packed us lunches for the train, she'll have yours ready for you," said Percy, who then hurried off to his room. Ron continued down the stairs and walked into the kitchen. He saw his mum, Molly Weasley, making hurried little hops all around the kitchen, juggling the tasks of making breakfast, packing everyone's lunches, and keeping hold of her head.

"Here's your lunch, dear. Go get ready, we're running late," said mum, gesturing to a paper lunch bag on the counter, and quickly looked down to prepare more sandwiches. Ron grabbed his lunch and turned to head back to his room to pack it. He didn't have to open the paper bag to know his sandwich was -

 _"MUUUMMYYY!"_

\- corned beef. That was the scream of Ginny, who had apparently found her wand. A quick succession of stomps sounded down the stairs and she was in the kitchen, looking miserable.

"Mummy, F-F-Fred and George b-broke my wand!" she cried between sniffles.

"Oh _\- FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY, GET DOWN HERE RIGHT THIS INSTANT!_ " bellowed mum. Judging by the distant groans, she'd woken up the ghoul in the attic.

Ron hurried up the stairs, not wanting to watch the fight that was brewing. He packed his lunch into his trunk, and picked up the cage that held his pet rat, Scabbers. Scabbers was a hand-me-down, originally Percy's. Scabbers appeared to be taking a walk around his cage.

"Scabbers, d'you ever feel like you're... like you're trapped inside your own head?" asked Ron. Scabbers gave him a knowing look, and immediately fell asleep.

* * *

Ron laid on the bed for a few minutes, listening to the aggravated voices of his mum and brothers and sister downstairs in the kitchen, which were competing for aural dominance with the groans of the ghoul in the attic. Currently his mum's voice was winning...

This situation wasn't particularly rare, but it certainly didn't happen every day. September 1sts are always the worst of it, though, with the early rise in the morning and the logistics of making sure five children are packed and ready to go all contributing to the atmosphere of stress. No, the family truly did love each other dearly, and summer mornings were usually much better and happier times. It was only on days like this that Ron felt worst. Like he was caught in the middle of it all, as if it were his fault... but Ron knew better, deep down. Ron also knew that he had to get up and eat breakfast before he got all mopey on his big day. Things were going much better than _last_ year, after all...

Ron rushed down the stairs to see the state of the argument. It appeared Arthur Weasley, Ron's dad, had joined the fun.

"Molly, I think they're telling the truth," said dad.

"We are! - Just give it a wave!" urged the twins.

"Oh, all right! Arthur, you do it," said mum.

Dad, evidently eager to end the scuffle and dig in to breakfast, reached over and took the broken wand from mum. He cleared his throat for some reason and swished the wand through the air, and after a loud crackle and a violent poof of smoke came and went, a sad-looking bouquet of flowers slowly crept out of the end of the wand. They were wilted and infested with weeds. Ginny gasped.

"See, mum? - We told you," said the twins.

Mum's eyes suddenly glistened, and before she could formulate an apology, Ginny hugged each twin in turn. Sensing that mum might become emotional in front of everyone, Ron offered to go get Percy for breakfast.

Ron ran up the stairs and knocked on Percy's door. After a short pause, the door opened, and Percy stepped out, closing it right behind him.

"Er, breakfast is ready," said Ron.

"Oh, lovely! Thank you for telling me, Ron. I'll be down in a moment," replied Percy stiffly, trying - but failing - to appear normal.

Eyeing Percy sidelong, Ron turned to go back down the stairs. As he reached the bottom, he heard George start, " _Don't worry about it_ , mum - we understand." They were all sitting at the table, now, and Ron joined them. The ghoul was now banging violently on pipes and making a noise that sounded somewhat like yodelling.

"I do wish that ghoul upstairs would be quiet now," dad said, glancing at the stairs with a frown.

" _Dad_ , that's no way to talk about Percy!" gasped Fred, feigning shock.

It was then, as if summoned by the mention of his name, that Percy walked in and joined them at the table, where they all had a happy, hurried breakfast.


	2. Meeting the Boy Who Lived

I corrected some things in the last chapter, minor formatting headaches and whatnot. The only major thing I changed was a factual error: I stated that Ron inherited Percy's clothes when in reality it was Bill's clothes. I sincerely thank those of you who left reviews. I hope to please you in the coming chapters. It means a lot. I won't diverge from the written word except when creative liberty is needed to tell Ron's story where Rowling did not. I still don't own or claim to own Harry Potter or J.K. Rowling.

* * *

It was a short breakfast, only about fifteen minutes, but it was enough to set a happy mood after the morning's rough start. Ron had only just finished his bacon when his mum had given a startled _"Oh!"_ and started rushing to clean up everyone's plates as they all went upstairs to get their trunks. It took another ten minutes for everyone to bring their luggage downstairs and pack it into the trunk of dad's Ford Anglia. He checked, double-checked, and re-checked that they brought all their luggage and were not forgetting anything. Surprisingly, they truly hadn't this time, and Ron reckoned that must have been a record.

There was excited chatter all the way to King's Cross. Ron and Ginny were discussing Hogwarts and all the magical things that happen there, Fred and George were discussing all the mischievous things they would do when they arrived at school, and mum and dad were discussing their joy at having a bit of peace and quiet now that the house was mostly empty. Percy read a book.

When they arrived at the station, dad ran to grab trolleys for the kids to load up their luggage on. He kissed mum goodbye, and ran off to find a place to apparate to work in peace.

Ginny had started up her routine of begging mum to let her go to Hogwarts, too. _Please please please please please please -_ her determination was maddening. When they got into the station, it was crowded with people bustling about, and the family received their usual share of odd looks from passersby. It's not every day you get to see a throng of red-haired children pushing trolleys full of trunks larger than they are, let alone one of them topped by a caged rat and another by a caged _owl_. _Speaking of which..._ Ron reached over and freed Scabbers of his cage, and stuffed him inside the pocket of his jacket. _Don't want you getting hurt..._

"This time of year it's always packed with muggles, of course... stay close to me, Ginny," said mum. They continued on to the platform; "Now, what's the platform number?" asked mum. "Nine and three quarters!" answered Ginny, perhaps too loudly for comfort. They were at the metal barrier between platforms nine and ten, now.

"Mum, can't I go..." started Ginny.

"You're not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet," interrupted mum. "All right, Percy, you go first,"

Percy walked briskly through the barrier.

"Fred, you next," said mum.

"I'm not Fred, I'm George," said George. "Honestly, woman, call yourself our mother? Can't you _tell_ I'm George?"

"Sorry, George, dear."

"Only joking, I am Fred," said George. "Hurry up, George!" called George, and Fred followed after, both of them disappearing through the barrier as Percy had done.

It was then that a very odd-looking boy had appeared next to Ron. He was also pushing a trolley with a large trunk, and sitting atop it was a cage containing a large snow-white owl. He had messy black hair, round crooked glasses, and clothes so large for him they might as well have been robes. _Perhaps he's wearing hand-me-downs, too? Unless he just likes the look,_ thought Ron.

"Excuse me," said the boy politely.

"Hello, dear. First time at Hogwarts? Ron's new, too," mum said, pointing at Ron.

"Yes," said the boy. "The thing is - the thing is, I don't know how to -"

"How to get onto the platform?" asked mum nicely, and the boy nodded.

"Not to worry," mum said. "All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best to do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on, go now before Ron."

"Er - okay," said the boy.

The boy started walking feebly towards the barrier. People bumped into him as he went, and he started walking faster. Ron could tell the boy was tensing up, obviously nervous. Ron watched as the boy awkwardly walk-ran through the barrier, cringing for impact.

"Poor boy, must've thought he'd crash into it," said mum. "Go on, Ron, see if he's okay."

Ron, a bit more confident than the boy who went before him, walked briskly into the metal barrier and was transported onto Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Ron saw the beautiful scarlet steam engine waiting for everyone to board. The platform was packed with other people also getting ready to board the train. Looking around, Ron saw Lee Jordan, Fred and George's friend, entertaining a crowd with a mysterious box with what looked like, to Ron's horror, a spider trying to escape. Ron turned his head quickly and kept walking, looking still for the boy.

After a moment, Ron found the boy trying to lift his trunk onto the train, and saw as he dropped it onto his foot. Fred and George appeared behind him to help, and all three walked onto the train carrying the trunk.

"Found him yet?" came the voice of Ron's mum from behind.

"Yes," said Ron, turning. "Fred and George were helping him get his trunk onto the train."

"How sweet of them! Fred? George? Are you there?" called mum.

The twins hopped off the train to come and see what mum wanted. Mum pulled out a handkerchief, and -

"Ron, you've got something on your nose," mum said. Ron jerked away, but not quick enough, for she had grabbed him by the arm and was now scrubbing away at his nose.

" _Mum -_ geroff." Ron escaped.

"Aaah, has ickle Ronnie got somefink on his nosie?" asked Fred.

"Shut up," said Ron, wondering why mum hadn't assaulted his face _before_ calling the twins over.

"Where's Percy?" asked mum.

"He's coming now," said George, and sure enough, Percy strut over self-importantly, puffing out his chest to show off his shiny red-and-gold prefect's badge.

"Can't stay long, Mother," he said. "I'm up front, the prefects have got two compartments to themselves -"

"Oh, are you a _prefect_ , Percy?" interrupted Fred. "You should have said something, we had no idea."

"Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it," said George. "Once -"

"Or twice -"

"A minute -"

"All summer -"

"Oh, shut up," said Percy.

"How come Percy gets new robes, anyway?" asked Fred.

"Because he's a _prefect_ ," said mum proudly. "All right, dear, well, have a good term - send me an owl when you get there."

She kissed Percy on the cheek before he left. She then turned to the twins.

"Now, you two - this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you've - you've blown up a toilet or -"

"Blown up a toilet? We've never blown up a toilet."

"Great idea though, thanks, mum."

"It's _not funny,"_ warned mum. "And look after Ron."

"Don't worry, ickle Ronniekins is safe with us."

"Shut up," said Ron again. Ron's nose still stung where mum had scrubbed it.

Suddenly excited, George asked, "Hey mum, guess what? Guess who we just met on the train? You know that black-haired boy who was near us in the station? Know who he is?"

"Who?" asked mum.

" _Harry Potter!"_ said Fred.

Ginny squealed.

"Oh, mum, can I go on the train and see him, mum, oh please..." she begged. Ginny had had a crush on Harry Potter since she was a baby and mum had read her stories of his triumph over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the foulest dark wizard of the century.

"You've already seen him, Ginny, and the poor boy isn't something you goggle at in a zoo," said mum. "Is he really, Fred? How do you know?"

"Asked him. Saw his scar. It's really there - like lightning."

"Poor _dear_ \- no wonder he was alone, I wondered. He was ever so polite when he asked how to get on the platform."

"Never mind that, do you think he remembers what You-Know-Who looks like?"

"I forbid you to ask him, Fred," warned mum, suddenly stern. "No, don't you dare. As though he needs reminding of that on his first day at school..."

"All right, keep your hair on," said Fred.

The train whistled loudly.

"Hurry up!" said mum. Ron, Fred, and George hopped aboard. They leaned out the window to kiss mum goodbye, and Ginny started to cry.

"Don't worry, Ginny, we'll send you loads of owls," said Ron.

"We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat."

" _George!"_

"Only joking, mum."

The train started to move, and Ginny started running alongside it, half laughing, half crying, until she could no longer keep up. She waved a final goodbye as she shrinked out of sight.

Ron decided then that he would befriend the boy, Harry Potter. He seemed nice enough, and Ron needed a friend. Someone to be equal to, to not be compared to. It didn't occur to Ron in the slightest that perhaps Harry Potter was a bad fit for those criteria, but nevertheless...

"Anyone sitting there?" Ron asked, pointing at the seat opposite Harry Potter. He was somehow alone in the compartment.

Harry Potter shook his head and Ron sat down. Ron glanced at him and looked quickly out of the window, hoping Harry Potter hadn't noticed. _Er - how does one make friends?_ wondered Ron.

"Hey, Ron," said the voice of Fred. The twins were standing outside the compartment. "Listen, we're going down the middle of the train - Lee Jordan's got a gaint tarantula down there."

"Right," Ron mumbled, trying not to shudder.

"Harry, did we introduce ourselves?" asked George. "Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later, then."

"Bye," said both Harry Potter and Ron. The twins slid the compartment door shut behind them.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron heard himself ask.

Harry Potter nodded.

"Oh - well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George's jokes," said Ron. "And have you really got - you know..." Ron pointed at Harry Potter's forehead.

Harry Potter had pulled back his bangs to reveal a lightning-shaped scar. Ron stared.

"So that's where You-Know-Who - ?"

"Yes," said Harry Potter, "but I can't remember it."

"Nothing?" asked Ron eagerly.

"Well - I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else."

"Wow," said Ron. He stared at Harry Potter for a few moments, then, but looked out of the window again when he realised what he was doing.

"Are all your family wizards?" Harry Potter asked suddenly.

"Er - yes, I think so," said Ron. "I think mum's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

"So you must know loads of magic already."

"I heard you went to live with Muggles," said Ron. "What are they like?"

"Horrible - well, not all of them," said Harry Potter. "My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though. Wish I'd had three wizard brothers."

Did - is he actually... _jealous_ of having...

"Five," said Ron sadly. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left - Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

Ron pulled Scabbers from his jacket pocket, where the rat had been napping.

"His name's Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made prefect, but they couldn't aff - I mean, I got Scabbers instead." Well, Harry Potter now knows he was poor. Great wizard like that, he'd probably be getting up and leaving any second now -

"I don't think there's anything wrong with not being able to afford an owl," said Harry. Ron felt relief rush over him. "I've never had any money in my life until a month ago. I've always had to wear my cousin's old clothes. He's, er, _very_ big, as you can tell," and Harry tugged on the chest of his shirt, which extended out an entire foot before catching.

"I've always lived as a Muggle, and until Hagrid told me, I didn't know anything about being a wizard or about my parents or Voldemort -"

Ron gasped.

 _"You said You-Know-Who's name!"_ Ron was astounded. "I'd have thought you, of all people -"

"I'm not trying to be _brave_ or anything, saying the name," said Harry, "I just never knew you shouldn't. See what I mean? I've got loads to learn... I bet... I bet Im' the worst in the class."

The _slayer of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,_ worst in the class? What?

"You won't be. There's loads of people who come from Muggle families and they learn quick enough," said Ron. _I mean, he was only one year old when he battled... you know, maybe he really_ doesn't _know magic. Magic does strange things to protect wizard children, after all._

* * *

It was around half past twelve when the Trolley Witch appeared at their door, looking very much like an old lady who could never hurt a fly in any way, shape, or form.

"Anything off the cart, dears?" asked the Witch.

Harry had jumped up at once.

"I, er, mum packed sandwiches..." said Ron feebly as his stomach did a lurch.

A moment later, Harry returned with a very large pile of candy of all sorts, and dumped it all onto the seat beside Ron.

"Hungry, are you?" said Ron. He'd never seen so much candy in one place in his life.

"Starving," said Harry, who was now eating a pumpkin pasty.

"She always forgets I don't like corned beef," said Ron quietly, looking at the crumpled package of sandwiches he'd brought along on the train.

"Swap you for one of these," said Harry, holding up another pasty. "Go on -"

"You don't want this, it's all dry," said Ron. _That was rude, er..._ "She hasn't got much time, you know, with five of us."

"Go on," Harry insisted, "have a pasty."

Ron's heart lept. Slowly at first, but quicker as he got more comfortable, Ron ate candy after candy with Harry. It was a nice feeling, sitting there with a friend, who had actually just given him permission to share his wealth of lovely candy. Harry held up a package of Chocolate Frogs, looking startled.

"What are these? They're not _really_ frogs, are they?"

"No," answered Ron. "But see what the card is. I'm missing Agrippa."

"What?" asked Harry.

"Oh, of course, you wouldn't know - Chocolate Frogs have cards inside them, you know, to collect - famous witches and wizards. I've got about five hundred, but I haven't got Agrippa or Ptolemy."

Harry started to pull out the card, and smiled.

"So _this_ is Dumbledore!" said Harry.

"Don't tell me you'd never heard of Dumbledore! Can I have a frog? I might get Agrippa -" Harry gestured to the pile with a smile. "Thanks," said Ron.

"He's gone!" exclaimed Harry, astonished.

"Well, you can't expect him to hang around all day. He'll be back" said Ron, looking at his own card now.

 _Morgan le Fay_

 _Also known as Morgana, she was King Arthur's half sister. She was a dark sorceress, Merlin's enemy, and she affected many events during her time. She was the queen of the island of Avalon, and she had great skills as a healer._

"No, I've got Morgana again and I've got about six of her... do you want it? You can start collecting." Ron handed over Morgana and looked longingly at the pile of remaining Chocolate Frogs.

"Help yourself," said Harry, apparently sensing Ron's wishful glance. "But in, you know, the Muggle world, people just stay put in photos."

"Do they? What, they don't move at all?" Ron asked, amazed. _"Weird!"_

Ron started eating Chocolate Frogs, only glancing at the accompanying cards. Nothing new.

After a moment, Ron noticed Harry opening a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

"You want to be careful with those," Ron warned. "When they say every flavor, they _mean_ every flavor - you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and marmalade, but then you can get spinach and liver and tripe. George reckons he had a booger-flavored one once."

Ron picked up a green one, eyeing it like one might eye two children stacked inside a trench coat, and cautiously bit a piece off.

"Bleaaargh - see? Sprouts."

Ron carried on eating the beans with Harry. He had gotten raisins, swamp water, pine straw, corn, seaweed, chocolate cake, strawberry syrup, and sod. A few moments after Ron had gotten the taste of the last one out of his mouth with a pumpkin pasty, a knock sounded at the door of their compartment. The door slid open and a full-cheeked boy came in, looking as if he'd just got done crying.

"Sorry," the boy started, "but have you seen a toad at all?" Ron and Harry shook their heads, and the boy wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"He'll turn up," said Harry.

"Yes," said the boy miserably. "Well, if you see him..."

The boy trailed off and left.

"Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk." Scabbers did nothing.

"He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference," said Ron disgustedly. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look..."

Ron went to his trunk and found his wand. It was chipped, and the wand's unicorn hair core was glinting in the light near the bottom.

"Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway -"

Ron raised his wand but was stopped by the compartment door sliding open. The sad toadless boy was back but he'd brought... _a girl._


	3. Hermione Granger

I still do not, and do not claim to, own Harry Potter or J.K. Rowling. I still do not, and never will, intend to make any money from this or any other fanfiction.

This was a hard chapter to write, but I hope I did Ron justice. It's crucial I got this one right. Also, you can safely skip Ron's Massive Quidditch Tirade if you already know about Quidditch, as it kind of goes on for a bit. I hope you enjoy, and please write a review or PM me with any constructive criticism or praise; it makes me happy to know people have read this.

* * *

Ron didn't quite know why he was surprised to find a girl standing in the doorway of his compartment. It wasn't as if the compartments were segregated by sex. On the contrary, the compartments weren't segregated at all, and any student could sit anywhere they're welcome. It was just something about her that seemed...

"Has anyone seen a toad?" asked the girl in a pushy sort of voice. "Neville's lost one."

She had very large bushy hair, falling down past her shoulders in tight brown curls. She had a large smile, which was an odd juxtaposition with her bossy voice. Ron reckoned she didn't know how she came off; nobody would want to seem that demanding on a first meeting.

"We've already told him we haven't seen it," said Ron to the girl. She, however, was staring at his wand, which was still held awkwardly in the air as they spoke.

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then," said the girl. _She can't be a_ teacher, _can she?_

"Er - all right," said Ron. He cleared his throat and incanted,

 _"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow,_

 _turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."_

Ron waved his wand to no avail, for Scabbers still slept.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" asked the girl. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard - I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough - I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

She said this all very fast.

 _Hermione Granger,_ thought Ron. _Huh._ Harry and Ron shared a look, and Ron was pleased to find that Harry looked just as taken aback as Ron felt. _Were we_ supposed _to read through our books already?_ Ron thought, worried.

"I'm Ron Weasley," muttered Ron.

"Harry Potter," said Harry.

"Are you really?" asked Hermione Granger. "I know all about you, of course - I got a few extra books for background reading, and you're in _Modern Magical History_ and _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century._ "

"Am I?" asked Harry.

"Goodness, didn't you know? I'd have found out everything I could if it was me." Hermione Granger started talking fast again. "Do either of you know what House you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad... Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon."

And Hermione Granger left, bringing Neville with her. _Does she think she's my mum? Honestly, 'you had better get dressed, we're almost there.' You'd think I couldn't go to the loo on my own, the way she acted. I bet it was that stupid spell... made a bad impression already. Last thing I need is my classmates thinking I'm a dunce._

"Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it," said Ron, throwing his wand back in his trunk. "Stupid spell - George gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud."

"What House are your brothers in?" asked Harry.

"Gryffindor," said Ron. "Mum and Dad were in it, too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw _would_ be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin."

Ron felt fit to burst with the gloom these thoughts brung. Ron had been bothered by them all summer.

"That's the House Vol-, I mean, You-Know-Who was in?" asked Harry.

"Yeah," Ron answered, flopping back into his seat, trying to calm his nerves.

"You know," said Harry, "I think the ends of Scabbers' whiskers are a bit lighter. So what do your oldest brothers do now that they've left, anyway?"

"Charlie's in Romania studying dragons," said Ron, "and Bill's in Africa doing something for Gringotts. Did you hear about Gringotts? It's been all over the _Daily Prophet_ , but I don't suppose you get that with the Muggles - someone tried to rob a high security vault."

"Really? What happened to them?" asked Harry.

"Nothing, that's why it's such big news. They haven't been caught. My dad says it must've been a powerful Dark wizard to get round Gringotts, but they don't think they took anything, that's what's odd. 'Course, everyone gets scared when something like this happens in case You-Know-Who's behind it."

Harry appeared to be thinking. After a few moments of silence, Ron changed the subject.

"What's your Quidditch team?"

"Er - I don't know any," confessed Harry.

"What!" _How can a man live like that?_ "Oh, you wait, it's the best game in the world."

And Ron was off, talking even faster than Hermione Granger had done.

"You see, it's played on broomsticks up in the air. There's three Chasers, two Beaters, one Keeper, and one Seeker. The Chasers try and get the Quaffle through the hoops at each end of the pitch, high in the air. The Beaters try and protect the players of their own team from two nasty balls, called Bludgers, by hitting them at the other team's players. The Keeper tries to stop the other team's Chasers from scoring a goal on their side. And the Seeker is seperate from the others, he spends the game looking for a special ball called the Golden Snitch, a very tiny winged ball that flies around the pitch very fast, hiding and dashing. It's a real pain trying to find it, and even more so to catch it. But if the Seeker _does_ catch the Snitch, it's an immediate 150 points to his team, and the game ends. They've got to be careful, though, because if the opponents are good, which they usually are, they could be up _more_ than a 150 points, and the team that caught the Snitch will lose anyway. At Hogwarts, catching the Snitch is usually an instant win, but sometimes you'll get really interesting games that go on for hours. I think the record is something like a month or so, and they had to keep switching out players due to exhaustion. Oh, it's great, Harry, you'll love it. Have you ever flown a - no, I guess you haven't. Well, it's the best feeling in the world, flying on a broom. I want be Quidditch Captain someday, but I'm not good enough now. I play at home with my brothers, but not so much now that Bill and Charlie are gone off. Percy doesn't care much for playing, he prefers to watch, but sometimes we can convince him to come up and play. Ginny doesn't know how to fly yet, I don't think. I've never seen her fly, anyway. Oh, Ginny is my little sister, you saw her on the platform, remember? Yeah. Well, my favorite professional team is the Chudley Cannons. They're not the most popular, but they're damn good when they get on a roll, their keeper's probably one of the best -"

Ron's fanatical tirade was interrupted by the compartment doors sliding open. In walked a pompous looking boy the same age as Harry and Ron, flanked by an entourage of two very large boys. He was blonde with sharp features and pale skin. His swagger and scowl reminded Ron a lot of how Percy had been acting since becoming Prefect, as if he owned the train. Ron already wasn't fond of the boy.

"Is it true?" said the boy. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and Goyle," said the boy. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

 _That's who he is! Thought he looked familiar. Thinks he's made of gold, just like his dad._ Ron tried to hide the laugh bubbling up inside him with a cough. It hadn't worked well, though.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."

It took considerable self control for Ron to remain seated calmly. The boy turned to Harry, now ignoring Ron's existence completely.

"You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." He held out his hand for Harry to shake.

But Harry didn't.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," said Harry coolly. Malfoy's face went slightly pink, like an exceptionally scared flamingo.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," said Malfoy slowly. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you."

Ron couldn't help standing up, but it didn't matter, because Harry was right with him, ready to take this boy down.

"Say that again," challenged Ron, anger burning his face.

"Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?" asked Malfoy, sneering.

"Unless you get out now," said Harry.

"But we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some." One of the boys reached for one of Harry's chocolate frogs.

Ron leapt forward, and would have struck the large boy nearest him on the nose, if the boy hadn't jumped back just as quickly. He was yelling and waving his hand around.

Scabbers had bitten him! The boy flapped his arms around, hollering with pain and fear, and Scabbers finally let go, slamming into the window and falling onto the seat below. Malfoy and his bodyguards fled immediately, and moments later, Hermione Granger appeared, alone this time.

"What _has_ been going on?" she asked, looking at the candy that has been strewn all over the place in the fight. Ron picked up Scabbers by the tail.

"I think he's been knocked out," Ron said to Harry. "No - I don't believe it - he's gone back to sleep." If rats could snore...

"You've met Malfoy before?" Ron asked Harry.

Harry explained how he had met Malfoy in Diagon Alley.

"I've heard of his family," said Ron darkly. "They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side."

Hermione Granger was still there. Ron turned toward her.

"Can I help you with something?" Ron asked.

"You'd better hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there. You haven't been fighting, have you? You'll be in trouble before we even get there!"

"Scabbers has been fighting, not us!" said Ron, aggravated by the accusation. "Would you mind leaving while we change?"

"All right - I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors," said Hermione Granger in a sniffy voice. "And you've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?"

Ron glared as Hermione Granger left the compartment.

Ron and Harry had taken off their jackets and pulled on their robes when suddenly a voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

Ron now felt very nervous. He and Harry stuffed their pockets with the remaining sweets and joined the crowd forming in the corridor outside their compartment. The train slowed and finally stopped. Everyone moved out the door and onto a small, dark platform.

A gruff voice loudly shouted out, "Firs' years! Firs' years, over here!" Ron looked for where the voice came from, and was shocked to see a lantern held by a very tall man, his dimly lit face towering over the crowd, nearly twice as tall as the tallest seventh years. The face looked at Harry and asked, "All right there, Harry?"

 _Must be the gamekeeper,_ thought Ron. Ron had heard that the gamekeeper Rubeus Hagrid was massive, but Ron hadn't thought anybody could be _that_ tall.

"C'mon, follow me - any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now!" said the gamekeeper.

 _At least he's friendly,_ Ron thought as he followed the rest of the first years off of the platform and into some trees. Ron took this opportunity to wipe the dirt off of his nose.

Neville, the boy who had lost his toad on the train, sniffed once in a while, but it was a few minutes before anyone spoke.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid announced. "Jus' round this bend here."

Gasps and "oohs" and "aahs" were uttered as the path opened into the shore of a vast lake. Across the lake, atop a mountain, sat the castle of Hogwarts, whose many turrets and towers rose into the night sky, glittering light from windows blending in beautifully with the countless stars above them. Ron's stomach did a bit of a leap at the sight.

"No more'n four to a boat!" called the gamekeeper, pointing to a fleet of small boats bobbing on the shore. Ron and Harry got into a boat, followed by Neville and Hermione. Hagrid had taken up a whole boat by himself.

"Everyone in?" he shouted. "Right then - FORWARD!"

And the boats were off, floating across the black waters gently and peacefully. Everyone was staring at the castle as they approached the high cliffs it sat upon. Even Draco Malfoy, Ron noticed, had his face set in a sort of reverent stare. They continued floating toward the cliffside, and Ron worried for a moment that they'd collide with the rock, but then:

"Heads down!" yelled the gamekeeper, and they all obeyed, for the boats passed under a thick sheet of ivy hanging off of the cliffside, and they found themselves in a dark underground tunnel. They stopped somewhere underneath the castle, where they all climbed out onto a gravelly sort of underground harbor.

"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" the gamekeeper asked, looking at Neville.

"Trevor!" cried Neville, who gratefully took the toad into his arms.

They all followed the gamekeeper up a sloping passageway through the tunnel, which came out at a huge sloping lawn, covered in damp grass. They were in dark shadow under the silhouette of the castle, which seemed even more impossibly huge up close. They walked up the lawn toward a huge oak front door.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?" asked the gamekeeper.

He raised a giant fist and knocked three times on the castle door.


	4. The Sorting Hat

I'm very sorry this chapter took so long to put out. Time got away from me. I'll try to not let that happen again.

Thank you dearly to all those that reviewed so far, I really appreciate it. I hope I was able to do Ron justice in this chapter.

I do not claim, and never will claim, to own Harry Potter or J.K. Rowling, and I do not want, and never will want, to make money off of this or any other fanfiction.

* * *

The door swung open at once, revealing a tall witch with black hair and emerald-green robes. She looked stern and intimidating, but not necessarily evil, as she quickly surveyed the first years.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said the gamekeeper.

"Thank you, Hagrid," said Professor McGonagall. "I will take them from here." She opened the door the rest of the way and beckoned to the crowd of students.

The entrance hall was massive, taller than Ron's several-storey house. In fact, it was so high that Ron couldn't make out the architecture of the ceiling in the pale light. The flagged stone floor sprawled out at least 100 feet in any direction. The walls were lit with flaming torches mounted in wrought iron brackets. A doorway to the right muffled the sounds of hundreds of chattering voices.

The group followed Professor McGonagall into a small chamber off the hall. The group of first years were standing elbow to elbow, despite the fact that there was plenty of room. Ron, like the others, was looking around nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room.

"The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule-breaking will lose House points. At the end of each year, the House with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Professor McGonagall glanced for a moment at Neville's cloak, which had twisted to be fastened below his left ear, and at Ron, who now suspected he hadn't done a good enough job at wiping the dirt off his nose.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly," and she left out of the door they came in.

"How exactly do they sort us into Houses?" Harry asked Ron.

Ron admittedly knew very little of life at Hogwarts, despite having five brothers who had done it all before him. The minutiae of a Hogwarts students' time here just hadn't come up in conversation, being overtaken instead by tales of Bill and Charlie's many adventurous exploits, Percy's academic prowess, or Fred and George's mischievous pranks and practical jokes. When Ron _had_ asked Fred what to expect, he had only told Ron that it was very painful and not many people made it out alive, but Ron suspected he was joking. Ron told Harry this, which seemed to worry him, and Ron started worrying himself.

 _Do I have to perform magic in front of Professor McGonagall? I don't like the sound of that..._ Ron thought, and imagined the look of disappointment that she would give him if she had seen him performing his Yellow Rat spell.

Ron's thoughts were interrupted by loud screaming behind him. He turned around to witness about twenty ghosts flying into the chamber. They didn't seem to notice the first years, as they were arguing about something. A short and fat monk was speaking to the rest, saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance -"

"My dear Friar," said another ghost, wearing a ruff and tights, "haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost - I say, what are all you doing here?"

The ghost had now addressed the students. Nobody answered.

"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling at everyone. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few of the students nodded.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old House, you know."

"Move along now," said Professor McGonagall sharply. She had apparently just returned. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

The ghosts resumed floating through the chamber. When they'd all gone, Professor McGonagall said to the first years, "Now, form a line and follow me."

Ron got into line behind Harry, and they all started walking back through the hall and into the large double-doorway they had passed coming in. The chattering stopped as the doors opened.

The Great Hall was exceedingly awesome to Ron's standards. There were thousands of floating candles flickering over four long tables that sat the students of Hogwarts. Sprinkled throughout the crowd were some of the ghosts they had seen in the Entrance Hall. The ceiling was -

"It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in _Hogwarts: a History,"_ Hermione whispered.

 _-_ and indeed, it was. It was hard to believe that the Four Founders hadn't just forgotten to build a roof, for there was no sign of any architecture whatsoever. It was truly a beautiful sight. _I wonder when we learn to do_ that _kind of magic,_ Ron thought.

The students were halted by the sight of Professor McGonagall in front of them. She put down a wooden stool and placed an ancient wizard's hat upon it. It was frayed and ripped and patched and looked as if it had sat there for eternity. Just as Ron started wondering what it was for, a rip near the brim opened like a mouth, and the hat started to _sing._

 _"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

 _But don't judge on what you see,_

 _I'll eat myself if you can find_

 _A smarter hat than me._

 _You can keep your bowlers black,_

 _Your top hats sleek and tall,_

 _For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

 _And I can cap them all._

 _There's nothing hidden in your head_

 _The Sorting Hat can't see,_

 _So try me on and I will tell you_

 _where you ought to be._

 _You might belong in Gryffindor,_

 _Where dwell the brave at heart,_

 _Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

 _Set Gryffindor apart;_

 _You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

 _Where they are just and loyal,_

 _Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

 _And unafraid of toil;_

 _Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

 _If you've a ready mind,_

 _Where those of wit and learning_

 _Will always find their kind;_

 _Or perhaps in Slytherin_

 _You'll make your real friends,_

 _Those cunning folk use any means_

 _To achieve their ends._

 _So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

 _And don't get in a flap!_

 _You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

 _For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

A sudden applause erupted from the hall as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then stopped moving completely. Ron also stopped moving, as he'd been shivering without knowing it. He was relieved to see that the Sorting was as harmless as putting on a hat.

"So we've just got to try on the Hat!" Ron whispered to Harry. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

Harry smiled feebly.

Professor McGonagall became the center of the first years students' attention again as she stepped forward and unrolled a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name," she announced, "you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted."

And the Sorting started.

"Abbott, Hannah!" called the witch. A moment later, when she had sat down, "HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the Hat. The Hufflepuff table clapped and cheered, as did all the tables when they received a new student.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Brocklehurst, Mandy!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

Some took a long time under the hat, and others could barely get the hat on their heads before it would call out their House. Ron wondered how long he would take.

"Brown, Lavender!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The far-left Gryffindor table cheered rambunctiously. Fred and George were catcalling, with Percy looking at them with annoyance.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Finnigan, Seamus!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Seamus Finnigan had sat under the hat for nearly a minute.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Granger, Hermione speed-walked up to the stool and jammed the hat on her head rather more violently than was probably necessary.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Ron groaned. _This will go well_.

But a horrible thought struck Ron, as horrible thoughts always do when you're very nervous. _What if I don't go to Gryffindor? What if I'm chosen for Hufflepuff or even... well, it wouldn't be so bad, Hufflepuff, it's just that I don't want to be the one to break the legacy of Weasley being a Gryffindor house._

Ron certainly didn't _feel_ "brave at heart", daring", or "chivalrous", as the Sorting Hat had sung. He _did_ feel nervous, but Ron reckoned that's not what the Hat meant by "nerve".

Eventually, McGonagall called,

"Longbottom, Neville!"

and Neville had fallen over on the way to the stool. He sat under the Hat for a long time, until finally,

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Neville ran off with the Hat still on his head, and had to come back and hand the Hat to "MacDougal, Morag!" amidst laughter from the older students.

When Draco Malfoy's name was called, he swaggered up to the stool and right as the Hat touched his head, it called,

"SLYTHERIN!"

Malfoy, smirking, went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle.

There were a few more names called, "Moon", "Nott", "Parkinson", a pair of twins named "Patil", "Perks, Sally-Anne", and then McGonagall called out,

"Potter, Harry!"

As Harry made his way up to the stool, the crowd started muttering and whispering, no doubt asking things like "Is that _the_ Harry Potter?" "Did she say 'Harry Potter'?" "Could that really be him?"

Harry sat down and the Sorting Hat slipped over his face. People in the crowd were craning their necks to get a good look at his face, and more accurately, his forehead, but it was covered, now.

From what Ron could tell, it seemed like Harry's sorting was stressing him out. Ron could just barely make out Harry's mouth, which seemed to be clamped shut tight, and Ron could tell he was tensing up on the seat. It was a few moments of silence before the Hat called,

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry, looking very relieved, walked over and sat at the Gryffindor table.

Two more names, "Thomas, Dean" and "Turpin, Lisa", Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, and it was Ron's turn.

"Weasley, Ronald!"

He walked up to the stool and sat down, his mind suddenly flooding with all the awful thoughts that had been bothering him over the summer just as the Hat slid over his eyes.

There was a small voice in Ron's ear, now:

" _Really_ , now!" said the Sorting Hat cheerfully. "Another Weasley!"

 _There's nothing left for me to do. My brothers have done it all already. Charlie tames dragons, Bill breaks curses for Gringotts, Percy is on his way to being Head Boy, Fred and George are always making people laugh... Ginny'll be exceptional because she's the girl mum always wanted... but there's nothing that_ I _can be without being compared to what_ they _are already!_

This all was felt at once.

Ron was feeling rather dark and gloomy now.

"Ah... but you see, your mother's love is not a contest, Ron. In fact, it's not even something to be earned, for you've already got it. You _know_ your mum and dad love you."

 _It's not about being loved, it's just about... I mean, why am I here if I can't do anything that's not already been done?_

"But that's where you're wrong. There's plenty left to do, and there's plenty of things left for you to be. I can _see_ it right here in your head. And who says you shouldn't do what's already been done? Not everyone is expected to stand out."

 _I guess not, but there's still a lot to live up to. Mum says not to worry what others think, but how could I make her proud if everyone can plainly see I've done nothing to add to the Weasley legacy..._

"These are heavy thoughts for a boy so young, you know. Now, I can't convince you that you're enough if you don't already believe it yourself, but I know exactly where people who want more than anything to do great things are meant to be."

Ron for some reason pictured himself riding on a dragon.

"Er... exactly. GRYFFINDOR!" Ron heard the Hat shout this last word out for all to hear.

Something about the way the Hat had spoken had left Ron feeling calmer, started walking toward the cheering Gryffindor table and thought, _Great. Step one: don't become a Slytherin, check._ Ron sat down heavily next to Harry.

"Well done, Ron, excellent," said Percy pompously.

"Zabini, Blaise," was made a Slytherin, and Professor McGonagall rolled up her parchment and took the Sorting Hat away.

Dumbledore stood up at the staff table and opened his arms wide, smiling brightly.

"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"

There was a moment of silence, and Dumbledore said, "Thank you!" before sitting down.

Everybody clapped and cheered, and Harry had asked if Dumbledore was mad. Percy filled him in on the fact that, yes, he was mad, though brilliant.

When Ron looked down, the golden platters and bowls and pitchers in front of him all filled with wonderful food and drink, such as roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, and pumpkin juice. Ron stacked his plate high with some of everything, as he was feeling particularly hungry after the Sorting.

Just as Ron was getting into some roast chicken, the ghost wearing the ruff and tights started speaking.

"That does look good," said the ghost sadly. He was looking at Harry's plate.

"Can't you -?" started Harry.

"I haven't eaten for nearly five hundred years," the ghost said. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"I know who you are!" Ron said. "My brothers told me about you - you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I would _prefer_ you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy -"

" _Nearly_ Headless?" asked Seamus Finnigan, a sandy-haired first year. "How can you be _nearly_ headless?"

Nearly Headless Nick looked rather displeased with this conversation.

"Like _this,_ " said the ghost irritably. He grabbed his left ear and his head flopped onto his shoulder limply, a thin strip of skin keeping it from rolling off completely. The ghost looked pleased at the students' horror, and he flipped his head back into place and coughed.

"So - new Gryffindors!" said Nearly Headless Nick. "I hope you're going to help us win the House Championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable - he's the Slytherin ghost."

Ron looked over at the Slytherin table. Sitting next to an uncomfortable-looking Malfoy was a ghost with dead-looking eyes, a gaunt face, and robes covered in silver blood.

"How did he get covered in blood?" asked Seamus, leaning forward now.

"I've never asked," said Nearly Headless Nick delicately.

* * *

After everyone had finished their food, the plates were magically emptied of the leftovers. The plates were then refilled, but this time with all kinds of desserts. There were all flavors of ice cream, there were apple pies, treacle tarts, doughnuts, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding... Ron wouldn't have thought he'd ever see _more_ sweets than he had on the train, but he just had. He was almost too full to eat any dessert.

Almost.

Ron had joined a conversation with some of the other boys. They were talking about their families now. Ron had just told of his own very large family. Seamus was speaking now.

"I'm half-and-half," said Seamus. "Me dad's a muggle. Mum didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him."

Ron joined in the others' laughter.

"What about you, Neville?" said Ron.

"Well," Neville said, "my gran brought me up and she's a witch, but the family thought I was all-muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me - he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned - but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced - all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here - they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad."

It seemed that story couldn't be topped, and they went back to eating their desserts.

After a few more moments, Ron looked over and saw Hermione talking to Percy about lessons. He noticed she seemed nervous, as if it truly weren't enough to have memorised all their schoolbooks over the summer. _She's mental,_ thought Ron. Percy was filling Hermione in on how his first year of lessons went when suddenly Harry clapped his forehead with his hand.

"Ouch!" he said.

"What is it?" asked Percy.

"N - nothing," said Harry nervously. "Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?"

"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you?" Percy replied. "No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to - everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

Ron saw Harry eyeing Snape for a moment, but then he looked away.

Son the desserts, too, vanished, and Dumbledore stood up again. Everyone stopped talking.

"Ahem - just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Ron thought he saw Dumbledore's eyes flash in Fred and George's direction.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used beween classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand-side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Harry laughed, but very few shared his laughter.

"He's not serious?" he asked Percy quietly.

"Must be," said Percy, frowning. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere - the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least."

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" said Dumbledore gleefully.

Dumbledore flicked his wand sharply, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high into the air where everyone could see, and twisted into words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"

And everyone started singing loudly:

 _"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_

 _Teach us something please,_

 _Whether we be old and bald_

 _Or young with scabby knees,_

 _Our heads could do with filling_

 _With some interesting stuff,_

 _For now they're bare and full of air,_

 _Dead flies and bits of fluff,_

 _So teach us things worth knowing,_

 _Bring back what we've forgot,_

 _Just do your best, we'll do the rest,_

 _And learn until our brains all rot."_

Ron had sung in a sort of fervent meter like a Quidditch chant, but everyone had their own tune they followed and they all finished at different times. Fred and George, for example, were the last to finish, singing in a slow dirge. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with a smile, however, and when it was over, everybody clapped. Dumbledore had clapped the loudest. It seemed for some reason this part was the teachers' least favorite tradition, for their faces all seemed stiff and their claps all seemed soft.

"Ah, music," said Dumbledore, wiping a tear from his eye. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Gryffindor first years followed Percy out into the Entrance Hall and up the Marble Staircase. Ron lost track of where they were going after Percy led them through a tapestry down the first floor corridor and straight into a secret staircase behind a sliding panel, and down another corridor that led to more stairs... _How'm I supposed to remember how to get back to the Great Hall after all this?_ Ron thought sleepily.

Many more staircases and twisty hallways and corridors later, Percy suddenly stopped. A bundle of walking sticks was floating in front of them, and when Percy walked toward them, they started pelting themselves at him.

"Peeves, a poltergeist..." whispered Percy. Raising his voice now, he said, "Peeves - show yourself."

From nowhere, but surely from the direction of the walking sticks, a sound of loud flatulence answered Percy's call.

"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?" threatened Percy.

A pop sounded, and there appeared what looked like a little man with a very wide mouth and a mischievous expression, floating cross-legged in the air, holding the walking sticks.

"Oooooooh!" he said, cackling evilly. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!"

He rushed at them, making them all duck.

"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" demanded Percy.

Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head. Peeves zoomed away, whacking suits of armor and making an awful racket on his way.

"You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy, and they all started walking again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are."

They were looking at a very large portrait of a large woman in a pink dress.

"Password?" she asked.

"Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung outward to reveal a hole in the wall, just large enough for adult to fit through if they tried. That didn't mean it was a _comfortable_ move for the first years, however... Neville needed help to get through, but when they were all in, the students all took in the room around them. There was a fireplace flickering light across the round room, casting shadows shaped like the large, squashy armchairs and the many tables and writing desks that filled up some of the space. This was the Gryffindor common room.

Percy pointed the girls through one doorway and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase - it was clear they were in one of Hogwarts' many towers - they found their room. There were five four-poster beds hung with red velvet curtains. Their trunks sat at the foot of their beds.

"Great food, isn't it?" Ron muttered. "Get _off_ , Scabbers!" Scabbers jumped out from Ron's pocket and started frantically running around on the bed, nibbling the sheets and making little squeaks. "He's chewing my sheets," Ron explained to Harry.

Ron hastily pulled on his pajamas and fell into bed. Scabbers curled up on the pillow a short distance from Ron's face, and Ron fell asleep almost instantly, dead to the world, but happy to have met a friend and to be sorted into Gryffindor.


End file.
